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The Astral Disaster Poetaster
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The "Die/Alone" combo is one of the best holiday entertainments available, if a little bit tragically portmanteau'ed. 

This is all stellar—but if we really want to head down this wurmhole, we'll have to take chromatic philosophy into account. Personally, I would think:

"Fungdark." [MALE POLITICIAN REDACTED] is a fungdark.

Good point. Personally, I love the ease and accessibility of digital media, but I love physical media for all of the truly indispensable entertainment. I own an iPod and a Kindle and a laptop fully stocked with 288 gigs of the Western canon…but I also have an analog bookshelf where I store my vinyl and my capital-B

Ha, thanks—I'll certainly do my best to make it a regular feature of my posts, if nothing else.

"…particularly that stanza where Grendel chokes on a toilet…" [O'Neal, Sean. "Incredibly repetitive video game Rampage to become incredibly derivative movie." The A/V Club, November 18th, 2011.]

Scrawler—I know many people in the same situation, and quite simply, it's for the same reason that small, independent filmmakers are having difficulties being picked up by major
studios; there's no good ROI in up & comers. When Kim Kardashian, Robert Pattinson, and Evanescence get consistent asses in seats, why take a

Correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't the Dean say, "I'm horrible; I'm horrible" after burning his degree—playing off of Colonel Kurtz's "The horror, the horror?" I thought that was pretty clever, myself. 

Brett Ratner doing something stupid tonight is essentially a guarantee—but Brett Ratner getting publicity for doing something stupid is the real win.

Three seasons and an overstuffed wrap-up episode!

[performs due diligence] Actually, yeah—pretty much! Well, at least my hasty prospective movie pitches are realistic. Sorry, A feckless attempt to curry fa, looks like we've got some rights to acquire first!

It was stepping on the toes of the popular podcast Legisladies. 

James Franco, Victoria Jackson, Third Eye Blind…it's like the perfect storm of horrible things in American pop culture. Thursday buzzkills!

Yeah, "classic rock" as a genre is a pretty lazy appellation, but it's interesting to see who people consider their "classic rock" band, and how it breaks down along age lines. I'm young; I think Led Zeppelin, due to a weird resurgence in their population in my high school among people whose parents went to Led

Disappointment, hangovers, depression, and vegetarianism—the Whig Burger stifles it all.

He starts his own pirate radio station (because he can't figure out how to upload a podcast) and broadcasts the hits of "now (ca 14 years ago)" on WARP 90.3. When FCC goons (Elizabeth Banks and Gary Busey) try to shut him down, it's up to our 30-year old manfant to hold the end-all be-all of late '90's rock shows to

It was Trivia Night at the Whig—how could they resist?

Bourbon. 

In all fairness, I think Frank Miller hates that hat as well. He just wears it because—well, I like to imagine that Batman sprung fully formed a la Athena from Miller's head, taking with him the capacity for rational and considered political thought. Frank Miller just wears a hat to cover up his eggshell hand, to

Well, one is a holding pattern/networking tool for emotionally arrested and politically apathetic consumers who have spent their entire lives well-opiated and ill-prepared for engagement with the machinery of society.